


faces in a photograph

by Jenny_Jensen



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Riverdale, bughead - Freeform, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Jensen/pseuds/Jenny_Jensen
Summary: It’s four minutes past when they were supposed to meet, time and place set up in an untraceable email weeks earlier, and she’s not just ancy any more, she’s close to panicking.A single nail digs into her palm.“We’re done with that, Elizabeth,”
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	faces in a photograph

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr yesterday. i know I said I was done watching Riverdale, and I am, minus Naley Haleb's Bughead clips on YouTube every Thursday, but I wanted to write my own ending to the season and then ignore the rest :)
> 
> End of Season 4 fix it.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

* * *

She sits on the edge of her seat, not letting her back be supported by the rest of the bench.

This isn’t the place to be comfortable.

Memories of the last time she was here still haunt her, and she knows that if her phone were to start magically start spitting out the words to Lollipop 1958 by The Chordettes, she would reawaken the crescent shaped scars that lay deeply embedded into her palms.

It won’t happen though. Riverdale is not a magical town, and people don’t just rise from the dead.

Until tonight. She hopes.

The plan was good. Risky, but good. She tries to ignore the inner monologue of her brain, arguing that risky plans always end with more blood shed that ever necessary.

This has to work. It has to. Everything they’ve ever hoped for is riding on his return.

Seconds feel like hours.

It’s nearly May, a month until they can finally rid themselves of Riverdale and all the baggage it comes with. She tries to think about all the makeup work he’ll have to complete just to graduate on time, about their plans to laden up Fred Andrew’s old truck with all their belongings so they can arrive in Connecticut on his bike, the perfect transportation rain or shine. Their plans for the Serpents, to find a new home that isn’t the forfeited Southside. She tries to think about how he’ll finally be known as the hero he’s always been, exposing the truth, how he’ll have the perfect ending for the novel he’s spent the last three years writing, starting with the death of Jason Blossom, ending with his grand return. Their reunion.

If only he would get here.

She braves a glance at her phone screen, years burning her eyes at the sight of his face grinning back at her. She took that photo during happier times, before serial killer fathers, cults and deathly secret societies were thrown into the mix.

They’re only eighteen, or nearly in her case, and they’ve already lived through so much. Too much.

It’s four minutes past when they were supposed to meet, time and place set up in an untraceable email weeks earlier, and she’s not just ancy any more, she’s close to panicking.

A single nail digs into her palm.

“We’re done with that, Elizabeth,”

Fingers encircle her wrist, hand clamping over her mouth before she can even inhale sharply.

“You’re not allowed to do that anymore,” he hisses, close to her ear.

Tears burn her eyes. It’s been over a month since she’s heard him speak in anything that wasn’t a prerecorded video or an old voice mail, but he sounds so different in person. Beautiful, dark, calm and caring all at once.

“Do it again and I’ll take you over my knee with no fucking regrets,” he threatens, nuzzling into her untied hair. “Is that understood.”

She hesitates, wonders if she could be dreaming again. She’s dreamt about this night more times than she can count.

“Do you understand me?” He bites out.

Timidly, she nods.

“Good girl,”

He lets go of her wrist, arm encircling her waist.

“Good fucking girl,” he says again. “If there was one thing I missed during my time away…”

She tries to turn, to face him, to embrace him, to kiss him, to slap him, she’s not really sure, but he guesses her thoughts, in the way that only he seems to be able to do and tightens his grip, holding her in place.

“Not so fast baby,” he rasps. “I want you to see our little… masterpiece first.”

As if on cue, her phone goes off, a chirp, not a song, and she could cry. He settles himself more comfortable against her as she brings her phone up from her side.

She can only imagine the grin on his face as her eyes scan the page.

**The Secrets of the Quil and Skull Society** , it reads. **What Really Happened.**

By Jughead Jones.

His hand finally falls away, catching her phone when she drops it.

“Baby?”

“You did it,” Betty breathes, tears falling freely. “You really did it.”

“Hey,” Jughead spins her, hands on either side of her face. “We did it Betts. You and me, we’re a team. Always.”

He doesn’t waste another second, dragging her forward for a lingering kiss.

She breaks away all to soon.

“Oh my god,” Betty says. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”

Jughead takes her hand, gives it a squeeze. “I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

His phone, tucked away in her back pocket, starts buzzing.

She frowns at the name, handing it to him. “It’s your dad.”

He takes it, ignores the call and pockets it.

“Jug,” Betty scolds playfully. “You should answer it.”

Jughead shrugs. “I’ll call him back. He was in on the plan Betty, don’t forget, as against it as he was.”

“Still…”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you the most,” his hands tangle in her hair. “Fuck Betty, I… You’re not living in the dorms at Yale.”

She laughs. “What?”

“You can’t,” Jughead pleas. “We’ve been apart for too long. I don’t wanna live without you for another fucking second. They paid me big time for my story, enough to pay for our own little place just off campus. Nothing but the best for you and me from here on out.”

“It was only a few weeks-”

“It was hell.”

A sob escapes her throat. She can’t help it, because it hurt her just as badly.

“Baby,” his arms wrap around her in a strong hug. “I had to do it. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you…”

Her eyes dart to the scar on his forehead, just below his hairline. She did that. She hurt him, hit him with the rock just hard enough to knock him out, to create enough evidence to convince everyone that he was dead, because he asked her to.

She still hates herself for it.

“I love you, Jug,”

“I love you too baby,” he sighs. “Never again, okay? I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you from her.”

Her. Her inner darkness. God, she loves him.

“If i had known my dad was gonna drag you, Archie and Veronica down to the station, put you in a lineup…”

“He had to play along,” she argues, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “We did everything we could to cover your tracks Juggie, and we’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“At least the real crooks will see the inside of a cell soon enough,” Jughead grumbles, grip tightening. “Brett, Donna and the rest of the Quil and Skull Society will finally get what’s coming to them. No more “accidental” deaths, and if we’re really lucky, no more Stonewall Prep. It’s over Betts, it’s really over.”

Her arms lock around his neck. “I was scared Juggie, so scared you weren’t coming back to me.”

“Hey,” he lifted her chin. “Always baby. Remember what I said, we’re in this for the long haul, Cooper.”

“I’m done taking my breaks from you,” Betty whispers.

He laughs, kissing her nose. “Good. So, are you ready to solve every mystery in Connecticut-”

“And eat a lot of pizza?”

“Betty Cooper,” Jughead picks her up, her feet dangling. “You were truly made to be mine.”


End file.
